Night Six.


A Cannon in the Wind;

The Fifth Hunger Games.


Isabel Abriani, 18;

District Twelve Female.

As the sun falls and the moon takes it's place in the sky, a feeling of dread overcomes me. I can tell that tonight is not going to be a good one — not at all. The wind is blowing harder than I've ever felt before, creating a haunting whistle as it passes through the house. And not only that, but the pitter-patter of rain hitting the window assures that the storm tonight will be brutal.

I have no idea why it didn't rain this afternoon, but I guess that old Gamemaker was simply preparing us for what's about to happen now. The calm before the storm, as they all say.

I just hope there aren't any crazy muttations running around…

Stop it, Isabel, I tell myself, shaking my head to clear my thoughts away. Please stop thinking negatively. It's only going to get you nowhere.

But is that really true? I had my doubts about going to the Cornucopia, and yet I let Eion and Ricky persuade me to ignore them — and now Ricky is dead and I'm alone. My pessimistic thoughts were right last time, so there's absolutely no reason at all to ignore them this time.

Thinking of my two allies makes me cringe, however. Not only did my stupid plan lead Ricky to his death, but I left Eion alone in there to be tortured by those monsters. What kind of person am I? Weak-willed or not, it takes a special kind of monster to leave their friends all by themselves when facing imminent death. Maybe that's why I didn't have friends back in Twelve; they could all tell how useless I am when push comes to shove.

I groan, trying to stop my heart from hurting so much. The guilt is absolutely overwhelming. I'm just so useless, useless, useless, useless, useless—

That's when I hear the sound of a door creaking open, cutting through the sound of my self-loathing thoughts. My head shoots up, my eyes staring at the closed door in front of me, and my heart beating exponentially fast. Who is it? I wonder frantically, my mind telling me to run and hide but my body being too scared to do so. Who is it?!

Whoever it is, they're going to kill me. I know that much. With only half of the competitors left, there won't be anymore merciful people left. Any encounter with another tribute will only lead in pain, blood, death.

I don't want to die.

It's true. When the girl from One and the boy from Two stepped into the barn, the only feeling in the pit of my stomach was absolute fear. The thought of dying and letting the world watch as my world turns from blue to gray makes me absolutely ill. I just… I just can't die. I really, truly don't want to die in this psychotic arena.

Seconds pass, and I just about gain the will to move my body, when suddenly the door to my room opens up and the girl from District One stands in the archway.

And just like that, the overwhelming fear comes back, and I can do nothing but stare and count down the seconds until my demise.

She doesn't say a word, and neither do I. I can't talk. If anything ends up coming out of my mouth, it's undoubtedly going to be a sob. The longer I stare at her, though, the more that I can see how affected she is about all of this. Her pretty blonde hair is a mess on her head, and her eyes are red and puffy with tears. I was painfully jealous of this girl back in the Capitol, but all I can see now is a broken teenager who's been through more than I can believe.

My mind doesn't even wander to her murderous ally from Two; I simply stare at her as she stares at me, the wind and rain outside getting worse with every second that passes.

And then, she opens her mouth to speak. "I…" She gulps, taking a step back. Her voice is painfully hoarse, probably even more than mine. "I just— I'm sorry. I'm so...so sorry for…"

Before I know it, tears are starting to well up in my eyes. I bite my lip, shaking my head, refusing to cry in front of the entire nation. But honestly, what does it matter at this point? The Capitol has seen me cry during the Reapings. The Capitol has seen me throw up and faint during the Interviews. The Capitol has seen me abandon my two allies during our darkest hour. If anything, I'm the most pathetic person in this entire arena — and everyone knows it.

So for once, I let it all out. Tears stream down my face like a waterfall as I cry and sob and scream how sorry I am, how I just didn't want to die, how I'm so useless and so pitiful that my so-called ingenious plans do nothing but get my alliance murdered. Before long, the girl from One starts to sob with me — and for who-knows-how long, we're just two teenage girls crying and confessing our sins to one another.

"I-I'll l-l-leave…" The girl from One stutters out, still wiping her face free of tears.

I shake my head, feeling something hard and violent tugging against my heart. "No. N-No, you can st-stay…"

And maybe that's why what happens next is so unpredictable. But honestly, why should anything be unpredictable at this point? The Capitol doesn't want anyone to gain new allies at this point, especially an alliance fueled on apologies and self-loathing. They want blood. They want violence.

And if we can't give that to them, they'll end up forcing it themselves.

The entire building starts to shake, gentle at first but then rising in magnitude. Both the girl from One and I widen our eyes at each other, knowing that whatever happens next will be nothing but bad. I jump to my feet, holding onto the side of the bed to keep steady, while she tries to hold onto the creaky door. The shaking gets harder and harder, the wind blows harder and harder, the rain pours harder and harder and I just want to scream and—

And then everything stops.

The girl from One is crying again, but I simply let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. My heart is beating so fast that I swear it's trying to escape my chest, and my throat is so dry that I almost feel like I'm suffocating.

But nothing happened. I'm alive.

And then the shaking comes back, harder and more chaotic than ever before. I scream, losing my grip of the bed and flying all the way across the room, hitting the wall adjacent to bed and letting out a pain-filled cry as my head connects with the wall. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to curl into a ball and go to my happy place, but the screams from the girl from One forces me on this ethereal plane of torture. I momentarily open my eyes — and I instantly regret it, because what I see happening almost makes me throw up once again.

The girl from One is holding onto the door with all her might, the lower half of her body being pulled into the air. I look up, and then a loud crunch reverberates throughout the chaos, revealing that the top half of the building has been torn off. Outside, twirling magnificently, is a humongous tornado. I honestly can't believe my eyes. A tornado.

Before I know it, the door breaks loose of it's hinges, and the girl from One is sent flying straight into the air. She screams, I scream — and suddenly, I'm being violently pulled into the air as well. I try to hold on to something, anything, but the only thing my fingers can touch is the stabbing wind as my body is flung across the air like a ragdoll. With my heart in my throat and my eyes squeezed shut, I can do nothing but scream and scream and scream as my body flies in many different directions.

"STOP!" I hear the girl from One scream, her hoarse voice cutting through the wind. "STOP IT! PLEASE! PLEASE STOP DOING THIS!"

I open my mouth to scream something, but whatever I have to say is cut short by the wind painfully slamming me against something prickly and hard. I feel my entire body lose its energy as my arms are stabbed into by wooden splinters, and then I'm thrown right back in the air, my skin being slashed to pieces. I scream again, but this time it's fueled by the fear of death, grabbing me with his cold fingers.

I'm going to die, I think, opening my eyes to stare at the blue night sky. I'm seriously going to die.

Suddenly, without any warning, my body is thrown onto the grassy ground. I scream, my arm burning in pain and my shoulder bleeding in pure agony. My entire body is telling me to just lay there and wait for death, but my mind doesn't want that to happen. Not yet. I can't die yet; I can't die yet; I can't die yet!

Using all the energy I have, I begin to crawl away from the raging tornado. Tears are streaming down my face, and my hair is making sight very hard, but I disregard everything and continue pulling my body farther and farther away from the chaos in the shape of a hurricane. I want nothing more to curl into a ball and give up — but I can't, I just can't. I've been through so much in this arena, and I just can't give it all up now. If I have just the slimmest chance of survival, I'm going to take it with all I've got.

Now look at you, I can hear my brother saying, all the way back in Twelve. Gravelling on the ground like some kind of peasant. I expected this much from you, but I didn't really expect to actually see it myself. I can hear the Capitol citizens, laughing at me with each pull of my body, with each pain-filled groan.

But for the very first time in my life, I don't care. I just don't care anymore. They can point fingers at me, laugh at me, do whatever they want. But at the end of the day, I'm the only one that's going to be fighting for my survival.

At the end of the day, I'm the only one that matters.


Caio Artelle, 17;

District Four Male.

Last night, when I saw that my district partner had somehow died, I knew that everything I was back home was gone. I knew that there was absolutely nothing I could do to repent for my sins in this arena. I knew that the only other option for me was death — or to live with a guilt too heavy to hold.

I'm tired. Words simply cannot explain how exhausted I am. Physically, I can't remember the last time I've eaten anything other than small berries. Socially, I can't remember the last time I had a good laugh with someone. Emotionally, I can't remember the last time I didn't hate myself.

Because I hate myself. I really, truly despise the type of person I am. My indecisiveness does nothing but cause annoying, heartache, and pain for the people around me. My cowardness does nothing but show how I'm no different than my father, and how I'll only end up causing the people around me to suffer if I continue down the road I'm going.

It's too late to change roads now, though. I've messed up far too much in this arena.

I could've possibly saved Vesper, but instead I just stood there and watched the last moments of his life go by in a flash. He screamed for me, begged for me to come save him — and yet, because of my conflicted personality and my cowardly ways, I betrayed the small amount of trust he had in me. And not only Vesper, but who knows what happened to Ula? If I were there, I could've possibly saved her. Maybe I could've died in her place.

Stop lying to yourself. I wince at the cold voice of my father, reverberating throughout my brain. You're nothing but a coward, son. No matter how much you hate yourself now, you still can't bring yourself to end it all, simply because you're too scared.

"SHUT UP!" I scream, punching the water in front of me. Even with the wind and rain whipping everywhere, I still can't bring myself to go inside the dilapidated house behind me. The last time I did that, I met Vesper — and everything after that is too painful to think about. So instead of sitting in the dry, potentially dangerous house, I'm instead sitting outside this lake, reflecting on literally everything.

After I ran away from Daniel and Tet, I stumbled around the arena for a few days, running away from muttations whenever they popped up. That old Gamemaker didn't seem too keen on messing with me for some reason, and I always hid whenever I saw someone from a distance, so I've been relatively safe for the past few days. It might not be the most exciting time to some people, but why would I want to have an exciting time in a place that kills kids for a living? Sitting here and staring at the lake as people die around me is the most excitement I need.

Honestly, the only reason I probably feel so attached to this place is because the lake reminds me of the ones back in District Four. When life got too overwhelming back home, I would always just sit at the bank and think things through. My twin sister Sansa and I would stare at the lake sometimes, talking about our family situation and how much it hurts not to have a father anymore. I'd even sit and stare with Bianca and Bliss, blushing whenever the former caught me staring at her.

I want to go back to those times so much. They were just so...simple. Compared to this, though, everything in the world could be considered simple. These wretched Hunger Games are possibly the worst thing in existence.

Feeling my emotions drift back to it's regular melancholy, I sigh, covering my face with my hands. "I want to go home," I mumble, squeezing my eyes shut to stop the tears. "I just want to go home… I hate it here… I hate it here so much…"

I hate being in this arena; I hate being too pathetic to save anyone; I hate being too screwed-up to make a simple decision; I hate being me. What in the world is wrong with me?! Why am I so...so…

"Ugh!" I hit the water again, this time imagining it to be me. My reflection ripples — and I stare at myself, wishing that I could be someone else, someone who's not so mentally ill.

But I'll always be a stupid, indecisive coward. There's nothing else that can change that…

"Caio."

I jump at the sound of that voice — that eerily familiar voice. Is that..? I slowly turn around, immediately locking eyes with none other than my ex-ally, Kaya Vause of District Eight. For a second, neither of us say anything; I stare at the sword in her hand and move my gaze all the way up to her blue eyes, her entire body drenched in bloodstains.

"Wh-What happened to you?" I question, jumping to my feet. For some reason, Kaya's blank gaze unnerves me, and the blood on her body does nothing to ease my mind. With the rain drenching her red hair to her face, and the blue spark in her eyes gone, my ex-ally looks absolutely feral.

What happened? Did she get in a fight? Does it have anything to do with Ula's death? The last thought makes me shiver, so much that I have to grip my arm to keep steady. Kaya would have never hurt Ula. But if I believed in Kaya's morality that much, why would I have left?

"Zander really did turn out to be crazy," she says, her voice quiet but still hearable. I wince at how dead she sounds, like the girl in front of me is nothing like how she used to be. "It all happened so fast… Ula fell to the first floor, started screaming, starting dying…"

I take a step back, biting my lip to keep from saying anything. The emotions rushing through my body are unbearably heavy; if I fell to the ground right now, I don't think I'd be able to get back up. The way she's describing the death of my district partner, as if it was the most horrible thing she's ever seen…

"He had done exactly what the Capitol wanted him to do," she continues, still staring at me with those dead eyes. "And I… I just couldn't take it anymore… I couldn't just let them get away with it…"

"Kaya," I speak out, trying to keep my tone calm and controlled. She tilts her head, widening her eyes for me to continue. "I'm sorry… That must have been terrible. I… I wish that I was there—"

"You weren't there." For a second, I still see the old Kaya, hidden underneath the one standing before me. Her blue eyes gloss over with tears, and the sword in her hand trembles. But just like that, Kaya Vause leaves the station, once again staring at me with those dead eyes. Her chest rises and falls, her breaths coming out hard and unsteady, like she's desperately trying to control herself.

I take a few more steps back, stopping when I realize that my feet are on the edge of the ground, leaning precariously over the lake. If I were to move back anymore, I will fall straight in. But with Kaya looking at me like that, the route she wants me to go is probably even worse.

My brain tells me to reach inside my back pocket and take out a knife, but at the same time, the images of me fighting my ex-ally make me shiver. I could never win a fight against her, especially with that deadly sword in her hands. But if I don't take out something now, no-doubt she'll kill me before I even have time to blink. Then again, what if she's not trying to hurt me? What if she just needs for me to comfort her? If I were to take out my weapon, that'd immediately set her off.

This is bad. This is very, very bad. THINK, Caio. Think!

"I'm sorry…" I gulp, raising my hands up in defeat. My brain is screaming at me to run, but my body desperately wants things to be settled without conflict. "Th-The animals… They scared me, okay? And I just… I just felt so paranoid, like you two were planning on killing me, and I just didn't know what to do!"

"You left us to die." Kaya takes a threatening step towards me, and I'm far too paralyzed to move away. "The animals did attack us, and they almost killed us, too. But instead of letting us all know how you felt, you decided to run away and save yourself. You're just a coward, Caio. You're just a fucking coward!"

I wince; she's so right. She's telling me everything I've been telling myself. And you know what? It hurts. It hurts so much — because she's right, and I know she's right, and I just don't know what to do with myself. I left Ula and Kaya to die, and now my district partner is dead. I left Vesper to die, and now he's dead. The only thing I'm capable of doing is leaving behind a trail of pain and tears.

I'm far worse than my father ever was.

Tears springing to my eyes, I shift uncomfortably under her hateful glare. "I'm sorry…"

"STOP SAYING THAT!"

Before I even know what's going on, Kaya Vause is charging at me. I jump, almost falling in the lake, but catch myself quick enough to dodge the strike at my head. Kaya screams, swinging her sword at my neck, but I fall to the ground and roll, narrowly evading a slash that would have undoubtedly killed me. She doesn't stop her rampage, though; a slash to my leg, a strike to my torso, a cut right above my eye. Each attack is meant to painfully incapacitate me, but I somehow move quick enough to barely dodge each one.

"Stop running!" She screams, pausing to catch her breath. I turn on my heels and try to rush to the house, but I end up tripping on air and falling flat on my face. With the adrenaline rushing through my brain, I barely feel anything — but the one thing I can feel is the unbelievable fear of death.

I turn around, staring up at my ex-ally as she levels her sword right above my chest. Fear clogs my throat, forcing me to stop breathing, and suddenly I can feel the cold fingers of death caressing my soul. She's going to kill me; she's going to kill me; she's going to kill me!

"That's all you ever do, Caio. You run and you run and you run. If you had stayed with Ula and I, then maybe she'd still be alive. Maybe I wouldn't feel like my entire life of fighting against the Capitol was all for nothing. Maybe I wouldn't feel like tearing out my hair every time I close my eyes, simply because the only thing I can see is Zander's mutilated body! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

She screams in pure rage, stabbing down to give the finishing blow. But I can't die like this. I can't die loathing everything about myself, wishing that there was just one more thing that I could do to regain my own respect. Dying in the Hunger Games, broken down and buried in sin…

No! I roll out of the way — but the sword stabs straight into my arm, eliciting a high-pitched scream from yours truly. Writhing in pain, I scream and scream and scream, but that does nothing to stop the cold metal of the sword from rushing throughout my veins, lighting up my soul in pure agony. My vision blurs, black spots overtaking half of it — but then Kaya twists the sword in, eliciting another round of screams and another wave of pain.

"STOP IT!" I beg, tears streaming down my face. I stare up into the cold eyes of Kaya Vause; a girl that I once respected for being so strong and so fearless, so eager to stand up for what she believes in. And now she's killing me, torturing me.

I'm dying.

"It hurts, doesn't it..?" Kaya's eyes are full of tears, but she makes no attempt to pull the weapon out of my arm. The sound of my flesh being torn apart makes me want to vomit, and I don't dare turn to look at the mess my arm must be in right now. All I can do is lay on the wet ground, writhing and crying in pain, knowing deep-down that this will be my last moments alive.

"Please…" Suddenly, the feeling in my arm starts to go away, being replaced with a cold and empty feeling of death. I shiver, trying to fight back, trying desperately to fight back against the wave of agony — but I can't. I can't I can't I can't.

"This is your own fault…" Even now, with my world slowly turning to black, I can see the pain on Kaya's face. I can see just how much this hurts her, almost as much as it's hurting me. For a second, I open my mouth to apologize, or to say something — but then she slides the sword out of my arm, and an entirely new feeling of pain rushes throughout my body.

I scream. This is my own fault.

I'm dying, and it's my own fault.

The last thing I see is Kaya's blue eyes, widened in surprise and disgust. Her blue eyes were once so pretty, so full of fight and emotion. But they've officially been stained by the Capitol. The Kaya I knew is now gone.

And so am I.

BOOM!


Ceres Cantrell, 13;

District Six Female.

Today has been a very, very shitty day.

And considering I've spent six days in this arena, that's saying a lot.

For starters, there's been two cannons today, signifying that another two people have met their end in this godforsaken place. I know that's supposed to be a good thing, since it's only bringing me closer and closer to going back home, but there's still something inside me that mourns for the people who have died. The only people I wouldn't mind dying right about now are the remaining three members of the Pack, but it doesn't seem like any of them will be dying anytime soon. Other than them, though, nobody else deserves to croak in this place.

But neither do I. That's right. The only reason I'm still alive now is because I haven't lost the will to survive. Michael lost that will, and he ended up losing his life. Even my older, stronger district partner bit the dust before me.

I don't plan on dying in here, but neither do I plan on becoming the Capitol's perfect little Victor. I refuse to lose my humanity in this place; I refuse to play the game exactly how they want.

It's been six days in this place, and I haven't killed a single person. Thirteen-year-old Ceres Cantrell, possibly voted a Bloodbath by those Capitol idiots, has made it this far without harming a single soul. It's a morbid thought to think that I've survived longer than half of the other tributes, but it doesn't stop the swell of pride from blossoming in my chest.

Take that, Capitol! Never judge a book by it's cover!

Even though I basically killed myself off in the Capitol, it's nice to know that I'm stronger than I originally thought. Or maybe I'm just lucky. Whatever it is, it's keeping me alive, and I'm grateful.

Anyway, I sorta lost my train of thought. The second reason that today has been shitty is because of the erratic weather. The wind is literally this close to knocking me over, and let's not forget about the rain that loves to blind me. If another tribute were to find me out here, I don't even think I'd be able to run away without tripping and breaking my neck or something.

I have no idea why the Gamemaker likes to change the weather every day. Honestly, it's annoying knowing that one day you'll have peaceful skies, and then you'll wake up and be pelted to death with rain. If this is supposed to be a creative type of torture, it's working, because I seriously hate it in here.

But I guess that's to be expected, isn't it? It's not like the Capitol brought us here on a silly little vacation. They want us to die, and any amount of extra suffering is simply the icing on the metaphorical death cake.

I really hate them.

Lastly, that old Gamemaker seems keen on killing me today with muttations. I literally can't count how many random animals have tried to tear me apart today. Luckily, most of them have been small and easy to fight back against, but there were one or two mutts that would have definitely ate me alive if I didn't have a knife with me.

Right now, I'm simply walking through these empty fields, trying to ignore how drenched and uncomfortable I feel. I would have tried my hand at taking shelter under another building, but something tells me that's not going to end very well for me. I already accidentally stumbled upon the two from Twelve and the boy from Ten; I don't think I'll be able to just leave if I walked in on anyone else.

I try to ignore the fact that the Ten boy is now dead, while the two from Twelve are doing who-knows-what right now. It makes me nauseous to think that someone I made direct eye-contact with just a few days ago could be six feet underground now — and what's worse is the fact that I didn't know a single thing about him. What about when— if I die? Will the remaining tributes even bat an eye at my demise? Will they remember a single thing about me?

For some reason, my eyes start to tear up. I don't even know why; for as long as I can remember, I've always been the shy girl who doesn't care at all if other people remember her or not. I've never been the outgoing type, or the one to make a legacy, or none of those things. I've just been Ceres Cantrell…

And that's all you'll ever be.

I shiver at that threatening voice in the back of my head. Right now is definitely not the right time to become all self-loathing and regretful. Even if nobody remembers me when I die… Even if I'll forever be that quiet girl in the back…

Something tugs at my heart — something that forces the tears to leak out of my eyes. I quickly try to hide my face with my hands, but the sobs force their way out of my mouth. This pain, this emotional pain, is far worse than anything I've ever felt before. I thought that the Hunger Games were just full of bloodthirsty children with mental problems, but I never imagined how horrible the other tributes must feel inside, knowing that they'll never be able to see their friends and family ever again.

Stop it, Ceres! Stop giving those Capitol bastards exactly what they want! You're stronger than this! You are! Even if you don't realize it yourself, you're far stronger than anyone could ever be!

I am. I can't submit to my stupid emotions in this stupid place. I need to survive. I need to survive so that I can yell at my mom again and bring my dad his lunch again. I need to survive so that I can roll my eyes at Mary and even fight against my confusing feelings for Tyson.

I need to survive; I'm going to survive.

I wipe my eyes free of tears, continuing my walk through this depressing farm. With my heart once again in the right place, I clench my fists, letting the determination burn throughout my body. Nothing is going to stop me from getting out of this evil place. I refuse to get my hands dirty, but...but I'll find a way. I'll find a way to win without killing anyone.

With that mindset, I continue walking, a small smile growing on my face — until I hear the soft, almost inaudible sound of crying. What? I pause, taking in my surroundings, looking all around myself to see who could be making that noise. And then, that's when I see them; a person hunched-over, laying on the wet ground and sobbing their heart out.

I can feel my own heart beating in my chest, faster and faster with each second. We're in an open field right now, meaning that person could easily see me and I'd have nowhere at all to hide. But who is it? If it's the boy from Two or the boy from Nine, I'm totally screwed right now. But then again, the person looks rather small — or at least smaller than the main competitors.

Something tells me to take out my knife and attack — but I quickly diminish that thought. Whoever it is, they look completely harmless. Crying on the ground tends to do that to a person. And I would never stab a person in the back while they're crying; I'm not that far gone.

So instead, I do something that I would have never done a few days ago. It's stupid, crazy, and almost suicidal, but I've been through far too much to listen to that nagging voice in my head.

And I'm lonely.

I miss Michael.

I open my mouth. "Um… Hey there? Person? Are— Are you okay?"

The person immediately stops crying, but their shoulders are still moving up and down. My mind and my body are battling for control; one side says to run away and leave this person, but the other side says to go up and comfort them. And while comforting someone is definitely not something I'm good at doing, I can't just leave them here. Not now.

"I'm… I'm Ceres," I say, walking a bit closer to them. "District Six. How about you..?"

The person doesn't answer. The only sound between us is the pattering rain, which makes the silence a tiny bit bearable. Seconds pass, and I'm about to open my mouth again, but the person finally responds in a shaky voice.

"T-Tet. District Three…"

Tet. I didn't say a word to him in the Capitol, or even look at him, but I do remember the boy. His impressive training score of 5 reverberates in my brain, alarm bells ringing between my ears, but I try hard to fight back against the prickle of paranoia. He's the same age as me and crying on the ground; it'd be incredibly cold-hearted of me to leave him just because of a Capitol's score.

"Oh." I rack my brain for something to say, unconsciously stepping closer and closer towards him. "So… So you're alone? What happened to your allies?"

"They're all dead." For a second, his voice hardens, and I wince at the blunt way he said that. But then, I can hear him crying again, if only slightly. "I miss them… I don't know what to do without them…"

I bite my lip, my heart tearing in half for this poor boy. My ally is dead, too; I know exactly how he feels right now. Alone, broken, lost, guilty. Just days ago, I was on the ground, crying my heart out for Michael. It all felt like a bad dream. This entire experience feels like a bad dream.

But bad dreams eventually go away. The Hunger Games is a torture the lasts forever.

My brain is screaming at me not to, but I can't help but step closer and place my hand on Tet's shoulder. He tenses, back still turned to me — and for a few seconds, we both relish in the silence and the comfort of having another person to spend some time with, even if it has to be temporary. I'm not really planning on having another alliance, not after what happened with Michael, but that doesn't mean I can't take a few minutes to connect with this human-being in front of me.

We aren't just tributes. We're people. And I'm not… I'm not going to let the Capitol make me see them as anything different.

"It's okay," I mutter, closing my eyes. This is honestly the closest I've ever been to feeling at peace in this horrible place. "Well, it's not okay, but we can get through this. We don't have to entirely give up, even if you want to."

"I agree."

Time freezes. One moment, I'm holding onto Tet's shoulder, a content smile on my face. The next second, Tet is turning around, and I see the crazed look in his brown eyes. I scream, jumping back — but I'm far too slow to avoid the hammer in his hand from slamming into my head.

Pain erupts in my brain, violent and erratic and blinding. My entire body seems to lose its will to stand, as I fall straight to the wet ground and stay there. I can't move a single muscle; all I can do is lay there and stare up at Tet, eyes widened in absolute shock. The pain in my head is absolutely agonizing, and I absently note the blood pouring out of the wound.

He tricked me.

Tears spring to my eyes and slide down my face, mixing in with the rain. Tet stands over me, his eyes widened in a way that's not sane. Not at all. Fear clutches my entire being, squeezing the ever-lasting life out of me — but then the pain comes back, hotter than before, and I want to scream but I just can't.

I'm so stupid.

"I finally understand what I need to do," the maniacal boy says from above me, dropping the hammer and picking up a long piece of rope. A cold, terrifying sensation spreads across my body — and I instantly want to die, to just die, so that I don't have to suffer.

But it doesn't matter what I want. No, it never mattered what I wanted. I was always the tomboyish girl who didn't like wearing dresses, but my mom made me wear them anyway. I was always the quiet girl who didn't like talking to random people, but Mary made me associate with her friends anyway. I was always the girl who somehow thought the Hunger Games were something that would never affect me — and yet, here I am now, put in a position that I never wanted to be in.

It's not fair. It's not fair.

It's never fair.

Tet doesn't even crack a smile as he bends down to tie the rope around my body. "We're going to have a lot of fun, Ceres."

SOMEBODY SAVE ME! I internally scream, panic building up in my throat. The world starts to slowly darken, and tears leak out of my eyes like a faucet. PLEASE… SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME..!

But nobody comes, and I black out to the sound of wind and rain.


Caio Artelle, 9th: Cloe… I'm sorry for sorta spoiling Caio's death that long time ago. I mean, you could never truly know if I was lying or not...but yeah. He's dead. It might be a surprise, it might not — but do know that I loved Caio so, so much. I truly did. In the Capitol, I admit that he was pretty confusing and hard to write, but he developed so much in the arena, and his journey was honestly one of my favorites. Seriously, I don't know how you personally feel about this guy, but I absolutely loved Caio with everything in me. Unfortunately, I couldn't develop him any further than this, and it was his time to go. :( May he rest in peace!


Author's Notes: WHA? A DOUBLE UPDATE?! Yeah, I just figured that since it was the anniversary today, it was appropriate. And not only that, but I do need to make up for lost time. I am NOT taking another year to finish this story! I needed a small break from fanfiction, but I'm back, and I feel better than ever! I'm going to finish this thing, and I'm going to be proud of myself! :)


What are your thoughts on each of these tributes? Which POV was your favorite and why? Which POV was your least favorite and why?

The Careers have you surrounded, tied up against a tree. You can't move a muscle. They all nonchalantly explain how they're going to take turns stabbing you to death. If you can, how do you think you would get out of this terrible situation? Or if you are destined to die here, what would be your last words?


OKAY I'M GOING NOW. ITS FINALS WEEK, I'M STRESSED, BUT I'M BACK BABY!